


Room Number Six

by WhatSoMalfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Co-workers, F/M, Mutual Pining, Unspeakable Draco Malfoy, Unspeakable Hermione Granger, valentines day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:42:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29294613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatSoMalfoy/pseuds/WhatSoMalfoy
Summary: Valentine's Day haunts Hermione as Britains most famous single war-heroine. Her admirers are able to send their affections via cards, chocolate and flowers to her office yearly. Hermione distributes the gifts among her colleagues while tries to ignore her feelings for the colleague she wished would send a card.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 10
Kudos: 59
Collections: Dramione Valentine Exchange





	Room Number Six

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TakingFlight48](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TakingFlight48/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [DramioneValentineExchange](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DramioneValentineExchange) collection. 



> Written for the Dramione Valentine Exchange, I may have exceeded the suggested word count of a drabble. For TakingFlight48, I hope it brings you some extra joy this Valentine's Day. 
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful beta!
> 
> **Prompt:**
> 
> My soul resonates loudly with yours  
> 

"My soul resonates loudly with yours," Hermione said dispassionately. "What a load of codswallop," she scoffed, discarding yet another Valentines Day card onto the growing pile. She opened, read and dismissed another three. It had been five years since the war, and three since she and Ron had called quits on their failure of a relationship. Apparently, being a war heroine was an attractive trait. Admirers seemed to think it was high time she moved on. She did, too for that matter, but not with any of _them_.

Despite keeping her home address a secret, she was unable to hide from the copious confessions of love from strangers at her workplace. Even as an Unspeakable, she had an in-tray full of documents that required her attention and her would-be suitors could reach her there. 

Hermione dreaded February fourteenth like the plague. Each year, her desk would overflow with useless cards, expensive chocolates and roses of every variety. After a cursory sweep for hexes, poisons and other dangers, not a single one was given more than a cursory glance from Hermione. The chocolates and flowers were distributed evenly among her colleagues and the cards tossed in the trash. 

As unwelcome as ever, Draco Malfoy leaned against Hermione's desk. A habit he had become increasingly fond of in the last year, it would seem. Casually he leaned down and plucked the most recently ignored card from the pile. Reading it, his eyebrows quirked before pulling together in faux concentration as he recited the lines aloud for her and all of their colleagues to hear.

"Oh, Hermione, if only you would write me back, I just know you'd feel the same way that I do," he continued with all of the arrogance he could muster—which was a considerable amount. Hermione wondered if she should stand from her seat and attempt to snatch the card away from him, but knew it would be futile. The man was basically a giant in comparison to her petite form. 

" _Incendio_ ," she said before he could read further. 

The flames kissed his fingers as he dropped the card to the floor in shock, his lips puckering perfectly as he blew on his singed fingertips. 

"Ouch, Granger. What's got your knickers in a twist?"

"It is usually considered obnoxiously rude to go through other people's personal correspondence, Malfoy," Hermione grumbled, setting fire to the other cards before he could pluck another. 

"Forgive me, Granger," he smirked, pushing some fallen hair back into place. "I had assumed these were all destined for the trash, just like every other year."

"Are you jealous that I have so many while you have none, Malfoy?" Hermione offered a superior smirk of her own making.

Daringly, Draco leaned down close to her, his breath tickling her ear and sending electricity through her veins. 

"Why don't you send me one to make me feel better, Granger?"

Hermione's skin warmed as the ridiculous notion swam through her head and the electricity raced through her veins, landing just below her belly and erupting in chaos. 

"Oh sod off, Malfoy," Hermione swivelled away from him and strode away. She found herself in the ladies loo, splashing water on her face, and steadying her shaking hands on the rim of the basin. 

How could he unnerve her so, even after all of these years? She had been forced to see him as something other than the boy she knew from school as they often worked together on projects. If they weren't amicable, certain chambers would react negatively to their presence. So, they learned new things about one another and separated themselves from the schoolyard rivals they had once been. Their differences set aside, Hermione had begun to see past his pointed nose and had instead seen his, well, _beauty_ for want of a better word. When he wasn't being nasty, his sharp wit was actually funny, and she had caught herself laughing with him more than she'd care to admit. He had also filled out since school—and her eyes certainly did _not_ linger when he wasn't looking, thank you very much. 

Hermione really, truly wished that he would just leave her alone. That he would stop talking to her outside of the realms of work. That he would just disappear and leave her be. Maybe then all of the butterflies would stop assaulting her every time she saw him. If Hermione were to be truly honest with herself, she would be able to admit that the real reason she opened each of her Valentine's cards every year, was because she was hopeful that one day, one would be signed with his name. Of course, there never was one from him, and she fell further into the pit of despair that she refused to acknowledge. 

Composed, Hermione exited the bathroom and smacked straight into the towering pillar of her daydreams. 

"Oof," she complained, rubbing her nose. "Malfoy, why are you loitering outside of the women's lavatory?"

"It's the best place to pick up," he told her, his eyes dancing with humour.

"You're disgusting," Hermione scoffed, turning away from him.

"Hermione," Draco called, catching her hand as she tried to escape his overwhelming presence. He occupied her mind and blurred all of her lines.

Hermione turned, startled by his use of her first name just as much as his fingers around hers. Her pulse quickened. 

"What?" She managed to say around the nerves clogging in her throat.

"Have dinner with me," he said.

Was it a request? Was it a demand? The way he said it didn't hint at either. Maybe somewhere in between. Hermione couldn't seem to form a cohesive thought. 

"When?" She stuttered.

"Tonight." Draco's fingers were dancing along hers, gliding up to her wrist in a tune that she wasn't familiar with.

"But it's Valentines Day," Hermione braced herself and looked past his fingers and up to his face.

"I'm aware," he smirked—no, smiled at her. _Smiled_.

"Why?"

He pulled her closer to him and took her other hand in his. Twining her fingers through his, he said, "Because your soul resonates loudly with mine."

The card full of codswallop—there had been no name on it. It had been from him, then, and she'd set it alight with all the rest. "You've been spending too much time in Room Number Six," Hermione whispered to his chest.

Gently, and keeping his hand laced with hers, Draco tilted her chin up. Their gazes met, and the electricity running through her veins intensified. 

"So," he said, "dinner?"

Hermione licked her lips, nervously. "Yes, alright."


End file.
